Ackster and Wilma went their separate ways after a few more words, where Ackster also asked Wilma to keep him updated about any significant events or changes in the surroundings.

And then, after a solid nap, Ackster was up before dawn again and ready to seize the day. Mio wasn’t as energetic, but he was also in the mood to go on an adventure.

Ackster considered swinging by Tommelier’s to see if his stuff was ready, but he realized that it hadn’t been half a day since he dropped it off. So, he would make a quick trip out of the city and clear out a goblin cluster.

It wasn’t as productive a day as he wanted it to be since he neither got any new skills nor fought any strong opponents that could force him to his limits. But it was better than nothing since he got a reward for killing them and for selling some of their organs, which could be used for medicine.

Ackster returned early afternoon, so he was right before the afternoon rush of adventures. He also got to the Guild before Wilma’s shift began, so he didn’t see anything. With nothing else to do, Ackster decided to go to Tommelier’s. After all, Tommelier had told him to come back tomorrow, yesterday.

Worst case, he can spend some time browsing different weapon shops to see if he can find a suitable weapon for when he comes up with a fighting style that doesn’t rely on him maiming himself every battle.

“Hello?”

The door to Tommelier’s opened with almost a chime. Like last time, the shop was empty. Not even the desk didn’t have anyone behind it. Considering the state of the shop, Ackster hadn’t expected anything else.

He didn’t get a response, so he started looking at the various armors and weapons on racks around the place. Some of them seemed to have been cleaned and polished recently, others like they had been made and then instantly forgotten.

None of the different creations were alike, which Ackster found odd. They could have been made from similar materials but with completely different methods or with different materials but vaguely similar methods.

There were a couple of interesting items, but nothing that stood out to Ackster.

“See anything you like?”

Again, without Ackster noticing, Tommelier appeared behind the desk.

“Uh, no, not really.”

Tommelier scoffed.

“Doesn’t surprise me. You don’t look like the type with a good eye for these kinds of things.”

“I guess that’s true. Anyways. How’s the progress with what I asked?”

“Wait here.”

Tommelier disappeared into his workshop and came back out only moments later with a bundle of what looked like very thick clothes. He also sat down a pair of gloves.

However, Ackster wasn’t sure about what he was seeing. The clothes didn’t look like they were made from rock lizard materials. They had lost their brown color and the texture of the stone scales and had been turned into something that looked more like chainmail of very fine links so densely weaved together it was practically like a sweater made from metal instead of fabric.

“Umm…?”

“I couldn’t have you walking around looking like an idiot wearing rock lizard armor when I’m the one who made it. I dyed it, broke down the scales, and weaved in some Forger’s Iron. It will help you stay cool, even when wearing this thing. It’s also a little heavier than just the rock lizard materials. But that’s what you wanted, right?”

“Y-yeah. That’s right. Thanks.”

Ackster walked up to the desk and grabbed a piece. He struggled to lift a corner of the shirt.

‘A little?!’

The heavy training equipment was solid enough to work as armor just because of the sturdiness of the base materials. But it was too inefficient on a weight-to-defense ratio. So, anyone strong enough to carry it wouldn’t get many defensive benefits when compared to other armor.

But it wasn’t supposed to be armor in the first place. Although its weight made it difficult to even put on, it was exactly what Ackster wanted.

“I also added some extra reinforcements on the joints. I know it’s not an armor, but you’ll be using it as one anyways. That is why I also used some leftover material to put these together.”

Tommelier put his hand on the gloves and shoved them closer to Ackster so that he could take a look at them.

“Gauntlets?”

“Kind of. They’re pliable and easy to use, too soft to be proper gauntlets but too hard to be gloves since I reinforced and padded the knuckles a bit.”

“...”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Ackster wasn’t sure what to say. He also wasn’t sure he could afford it if Tommelier decided to charge extra.

“Don’t worry. I made it of my own volition and from scrap materials in the trash bin. I won’t charge you extra for them. In the first place, they’re not that good. If you don’t pull your punches, you’re going to break your knuckles against the layers of reinforcement. But they will hit like sledges when you hit someone or something, so there’s that. It’s up to you whether you use them or not.”

“No, I appreciated it. I think I will use them. Happily, even. I was actually just thinking about what kind of weapon would suit me or what I would like to use. And starting out with gauntlets seems doable.”

Since Tommelier had noticed Ackster’s habits and trends while fighting, Ackster decided he could throw out a hook and see if he had anything to say about what kind of weapon would suit him.

It seemed like Tommelier had noticed how Ackster fought with his bare body and did his best to create a training suit-slash-armor with that in mind. Considering Wilma had also seen through him and noticed that he didn’t have any formal weapons training, it was more than likely that Tommelier, a weaponsmith, could do the same.

“Just pick something. There’s no need muck about like a trapped fly.”

Ackster left Tommelier’s shop with a distraught mind and a heavy body.

Tommelier’s words had burrowed into Ackster’s mind, and he realized that he had maybe thought about things in regard to what weapon he should use too much, that he had gone about it the wrong way.

Since he wasn’t sure what would be suitable for him, Ackster had held off on picking and learning anything in the hopes of finding the perfect weapon that would let him display his true potential and the greatest amount of power he could achieve. However, as he held off on making a decision in the hopes of finding a perfect weapon, he was also delaying learning how to use weapons.

The closest thing Ackster had gotten to using as weapons were the Sharp-Horned Deer’s antlers. And he was quickly outgrowing them. Although the rock lizard’s defense was outstanding for its rank, it wouldn’t take long until all of the foes Ackster fought would be too sturdy for the antlers.

His fists were as strong as him, and if they didn’t work, he had his elbows and his forehead. But without proper martial arts techniques or mana to support his movements, his strikes were nothing more than foolish bluster.

It wouldn’t be much better with a weapon until he learned how to use it, but no matter how bad he was at using it, a sharp sword would still cut, a heavy mace would still crush, and a sturdy axe would still cleave.

And if he was really going to go down the path of learning how to use a weapon, he could ask the Guild for someone to teach him how to use it properly.

If Wilma’s words were to be believed, and if Ackster’sunderstanding of the Guild was even remotely close to its true strength, the Guild would surely have access to one or more people who were good at using weapons.

Ackster did have in mind one person who was famous for his excellence in bringing out his pupils’ true potential, surpassing it even. However, the Guild’s special forces that Wilma had just revealed were proof that the world was deeper than the original story had let on.

Also, asking the Guild, regardless of how he didn’t like them getting another point of view on his strength, would also limit how much the rest of the world would find out about him. If he were going to fulfill his part of the deal and become part of the Guild’s special forces, it would be in the Guild’s best interests to keep his strength and methods secret.

Emotionally, Ackster didn’t want to get closer to the Adventurer’s Guild since he couldn’t trust it. And since he couldn’t tell whether it was purely his paranoia or if the Guild actually knew who he was from the beginning and guided him to his encounter and date with Wilma, he couldn’t make a decision just yet.

Unfortunately, Ackster wouldn’t get an answer to that particular question, no matter how much he thought about it. He hadn’t felt watched ever since he left Degrest, but they could have just tacked on someone specializing in surveillance, and Ackster wouldn’t have stood a chance.

With how weak he was, Ackster wouldn’t be able to sense it if someone far stronger than him followed him.

It was just like with Dragon Slayer Kargas and Tommelier. Although he had almost been able to catch sight of Tommelier when he was looking at him from the beginning, he hadn’t noticed Kargas’ movements at all. And neither of the two focused on stealth.

It wasn’t fair comparing someone to Kargas, considering he was the Guildmaster of one of the most, if not the most, powerful organizations in the world. But it didn’t matter.

Anyone strong enough or good enough wouldn’t have any trouble trailing Ackster. And it was entirely possible for the Guild to do what Ackster considered they might have done, however unlikely it was that they would go to such lengths for someone as insignificant as him.

And that was the part Ackster couldn’t understand.

Why would the Guild do all that for him, even if he felt like they had? It also seemed like Wilma had been keen on recruiting him, considering she had even revealed the special task force that the Guild kept secret.

Until he found out the answers to those questions, Ackster couldn’t trust the Guild. Wilma had said that it was because they had noticed his rapid growth after arriving at Ilto. But in a day?

Ackster couldn’t believe it. They had to have known about him before.

The more he thought about it, the more Ackster doubted the Guild’s intentions.

He wanted answers

However, the only way he would get answers was if he confronted Wilma, and she actually gave him the answers he wanted. Even then, even if they were the answers he wanted, there was no way to confirm if they were true or not.

Wilma could just say what Ackster wanted or thought he wanted to hear.

At the moment, Wilma and the Adventurers’ Guild held all of the cards. It was up to Ackster to decide whether to call and lose or go for another round and hope he ends up with a winning hand.

At the very least, a hand that lets him place equal bets would be nice.

But until he can play around with Wilma on equal grounds, Ackster will have to bide his time and grow stronger. At least on the surface, and so far, the Guild and Wilma don’t seem to hold any ill will. If they did, he would already be long gone.

They wouldn’t even have to do anything by themselves. They would just have to have someone mention that someone similar to Ackster Phileam had been spotted in a neighboring country a few weeks after his supposed death.

The Guild would be more than aware of The Hero’s habits.

If The Hero even gets as much of a whiff of someone that should be dead, he will make sure that it was a false alarm or that it will have been a false alarm, especially if that someone managed to fool him.

Only someone planning to do misdeeds or target The Hero would fake their death, after all.

Only a guilty man would flee their judgment.

‘Or something along those lines. Crazy bastard.’

Ackster couldn’t help but curse The Hero as he left the town in search of something to test out his weapon and training equipment on. He just had to take a break before he continued.